


Shisa no Tame no Hana (Traditional Japanese Script Version)

by Gemini_Spark11



Series: Manifestum est Fatum [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America is not the Hero (Hetalia), And he will NEVER BE in my eyes!, Bombing, Certainly not at this point, Dark Past, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Japanese Culture, Light Angst, Night Terrors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rugby World Cup, Scars, Single POV, Suicidal Thoughts, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Spark11/pseuds/Gemini_Spark11
Summary: There's a reason as to why Kiku-san continues to wear shiro above all.If you want to find out why, ask the country with stars in his eyes. If you already know why, blame him.
Series: Manifestum est Fatum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914265
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Shisa no Tame no Hana (Traditional Japanese Script Version)

**Author's Note:**

> This version is meant to be read in reverse (right to left).
> 
> Seppakku is Japanese for honourable suicide, and its practice dates back to the Edo period. Guilty men were brought before the shogun, and were required to stab themselves in the the stomach while the shogun watched.
> 
> Also, feel free to comment. Feedback is what makes a great writer!

**Japan’s POV (1 st Person)**

Alfred-san’s name is called out across our stage. Everything goes quiet. Not a single cheer or clap of applause is audible. It is the kind of oppressive silence that invades the lungs, acrid as smoke. It make it nigh on impossible to breath, blocking out all thought. Even the stadium’s lights have darkened at the mere mention of the word. It is as if the stadium is a sentient being, as if it mourns for my home. For me.

It hangs over the stadium like a yokai waiting to strike, a coffin pall that will never be lifted.

As a country, it is my duty to attend events such as these. Personally, I think the others prefer to shirk the responsibility in favour of more pleasurable activities. I can see the appeal in it, but I feel I would terribly dishonour myself again I did that. (The first time was when the first bomb fell on Kyoto ~~. I came so close to ending it all with my own katana then, and I realized a country can’t go like that. I was being selfish.)~~ A country must not abandon his people.

The quiet that was in the stadium has now stopped. Different names are called out. Despite my melancholy, I find myself smiling at Italy-kun’s name. The boy remains such a pure soul, untainted by the horrors of war. Secretly, I wish I could say the same. It’s no surprise any empire thrives off bloodshed.

People seem to think just because the majority of my people have forgiven America-san for what he did then, that I’ve recovered. I haven’t. The burn scars on my body are still there. It is a constant reminder of how America-san betrayed our friendship. The student exchanges are going a long way to repairing it, but it is something that will be broken forever.

To rub salt in my wounds, America-san’s people use the word kamikaze colloquially. He has stolen it from me. It is a part of his identity as much as it is mine, if not more so. But they refer to it jokingly. You can never joke about war. I cannot leave my house on the 15th August, for I am consumed by my own grief. I drink all the sake in my house until everything goes numb, and I black out, my tortured mind longing to be somewhere else more tranquil. It is the only day I will ever allow myself to bow to weakness like that. My people will never be able to find even the word bomb funny. But alas, history is always written by the victors.

All I wanted to gain from the war was control over my own resources, but because I was an Axis member I was treated without any modicum of mercy. I daresay the Allies willingly forgot this, in favour of seeing only a formidable Pai Sho tile in need of possession. War is no game.

I have night terrors about them occasionally. The blood. The huge fires. The screaming. I can’t look at sea on those nights, for I know I can never atone those mortal sins. I made the first move.

America-san is the reason I have to bow before the kamidana every night. He is the reason I wear shiro all time.

To all who are listening: I know I will have to commit seppakku if it happens again, so be cautious.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually finished writing this on the 15th of August. How's that for timing?  
> Kamidana is the Japanese equivalent of an altar.  
> For those of you who aren't ATLA fans, Pai Sho is the native name of Chinese checkers. (But a hai-five to those that did recognize it, Uncle Iroh would be proud!)
> 
> Like my pun? :)


End file.
